The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,12

later, though, aren’t you?”

Emmett had forgotten about the traditional end-of-year bonfire, when students burned old reports or tests or whatever else they took a mind to. Students loved the bonfire, loved the chance to blow off steam before the pressure of finals week. They made it a rowdy affair. The whole thing seemed silly to him, but he went because his fraternity organized the event. This year he’d served as secretary for Delta Sigma Phi, so it’d look plenty funny if he didn’t show. He gave a weak nod. “I’m going.”

Spence saluted. “Good! See you there, then.” He sauntered out, leaving the door open behind him.

Emmett slumped low in the chair and pinched his chin. If he already had his diploma, maybe he’d burn it. Seemed a fitting act, considering how worthless the sheepskin was turning out to be.

Addie

WHY HAD SHE let Felicity talk her into attending the bonfire? Addie stood well away from the crackling flames and the milling throng of laughing, shouting, celebrating students. She’d wanted to post her letter to her parents, but Felicity had said she could walk to the post office any old time, but when else could she attend the end-of-year bonfire? The question had stung. Unless Daddy found a good-paying job quickly, she might never return to the university.

Felicity had encouraged her to try for a scholarship, and she appreciated her friend’s confidence in her, but she couldn’t bank on receiving one. Not when so many students applied and only a few were awarded. No, she needed to accept the probability that there would be no more classes, no more sorority get-togethers, no more bonfires. So she’d accompanied Felicity to the sporting arena. But she found no joy in the celebration. Maybe she should return to her room, where it would be quiet, and read some more chapters from the Christie novel.

The desire for escape won. Inching sideways around the periphery of the group, she searched the crowd of revelers for Felicity. Her roommate’s shining cap of hair should be easy to spot, even under the moonlight, but Addie made a complete circle without spotting her. Well, she’d given it her best try. She turned in the direction of the women’s dormitories, but a young man stood in her way. He seemed oblivious to her presence, his focus locked on the bonfire. She started to excuse herself and step around him, but something about him seemed vaguely familiar.

She tipped her head and examined him from head to toe. Short-cropped brown hair—or maybe closer to blond—shone with oil and lay combed away from his forehead. His square, clean-shaven face wore a solemn, almost-melancholy expression as he peered beyond her. Attired in brown trousers and a matching double-breasted suit coat with a white shirt, no tie, he resembled any number of male students on campus. Except those attending the bonfire had shed their jackets and piled them in a heap at the edge of the field. This student held a formal pose, as if removing his jacket and joining in the fun were beyond his ability.

Her gaze landed on the scuffed toes of his lace-up shoes, then traveled slowly upward again. When it reached his eyes, it collided with his intense scrutiny. Heat completely unrelated to the roaring flames a few yards away seared her face. She took a single step to the right, eager to flee.

His brows pulled into a puzzled frown. “Do I know you?”

She paused. “I…I don’t think so.” His question gave her permission to stare into his eyes. Firelight bounced on his face, giving her sporadic glimpses of his features. She couldn’t be sure if his eyes behind the glass of his round wire spectacles were green or blue, but his attention was unwavering. She almost squirmed beneath it. Within seconds she’d determined he wasn’t in any of her classes. She was equally certain she’d never seen him at any of the combined sorority and fraternity gatherings, nor in the cafeteria.

Suddenly, he gave a little jolt and snapped his fingers. “I know where I’ve seen you. You were at—”

Her mouth fell open, realization dawning. “The library,” she chorused with him.

A smile broke over his face, completely transforming him. “You were there reading today, weren’t you?”

She nodded. And he was the creep who’d stolen the most important part of the newspaper. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe someone else had taken it before he got to it. Maybe he wasn’t a creep after all. He didn’t seem like a creep, with